


A Fine Ever After

by bofoddity



Category: Edward II - Marlowe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-19
Updated: 2010-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-13 19:11:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/140697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bofoddity/pseuds/bofoddity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Against all odds, Piers and Edward make it back to each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fine Ever After

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inabathrobe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inabathrobe/gifts).



> The changed canon in short: Gaveston didn't die his canon death, but he and Edward remained separated, and the events of the play went otherwise as they did. Edward didn't die his canon death either, but got to escape to Gaveston.

Piers Gaveston had always believed that he would either die young, or become old before his time. He had never thought he would be quite this right.

He was older now than he was ever supposed to be - most men in his family never even reached thirty - but whenever he saw his reflection there was still youth in him, the tracks of time absent from his face and hair, his body still agile and strong. It was only when he looked into his own eyes when he saw his years, and their dreadful weight would always make him sad. There was certain glory in dying at your very peak, he often thought, and sometimes he wondered if that had been his true fate. It was only due to whims of petty men that he was here now, because they had thought it would be better for him to live in fear of their revenge than to escape to the peace of death.

For the last ten years and more, Piers had often wondered if they had been right, that it would have been better to die than to live in obscurity and exile, knowing that one wrong move would bring men desiring his death to his door. Now, he knew better.

"Pierce?"

Had he died in glory, he would never have seen his Ned again.

* * *

When Isabella had finally captured him, Edward had thought his end had come. Instead, Isabella had decided to let him go.

Why that choice after all her - deserved, he could admit now - rage, Edward hadn't known. But once Isabella had made up her mind, there was no power in the world strong enough to change it, not even the love of young Mortimer. Naturally, Isabella's mercy had come with a price.

"From now on, you have no titles, no property, nothing at all. I will give you one horse so you can leave, but that is all." Not once had the steel in Isabella's voice and eyes yielded, but she had turned its less sharp edge on Edward when delivering her final blow. "You are to say away from our son for the rest of your life."

Only then had he thought about protesting, and maybe he would have if he hadn't been looking into Isabella's eyes; he had seen that the steel in her eyes was that of a wolf, a fierce mother determined to protect her child, and he had understood. Whatever legacy their son was meant to create, it didn't need his father's shadow to taint it. Edward had kept his silence, and Isabella had asked:

"Do you agree to all of this?"

The little part of him that still felt pride had wanted to, but it had lost its right to voice a long time ago. Edward had nodded.

"Then leave," Isabella had said, and Edward had done so. The grief in his heart and eyes had been almost too heavy to bear, but he had never looked back.

He had ridden and for the longest time he hadn't known where he was going, if there even was anything to go to, but eventually his soul had been faster than his wits, and made a decision for him. He had turned his horse and urged it to run towards a place he knew only from a letter read many years ago, a letter written in odd scribbles that Edward alone would recognize, a letter written by a man who was supposed to have died. It had been so long since he had read that letter, and there had been so little hope that the things said in the letter were even true anymore, but Edward hadn't cared. He was a fallen king, meaningless to anyone and everyone. If he had no future to look forward to, chasing after a dream was no worse choice than anything else.

He had ridden and at some point it had rained, but by the time he had reached his destination the heavy dark clouds were far gone. His horse had been exhausted, Edward himself even more so, longing to lurch forward in his saddle and fall into endless sleep. Instead, he had lifted his gaze.

It had been a gray evening, but in Edward's heart a spring had come when he had spotted a figure running towards him, and with new strength he had begun to get down from his horse. He had barely reached the ground when Piers Gaveston had been all over him, sealing Edward into his warm embrace.

Edward had remained in that embrace all night, and remained there even now. He couldn't imagine ever wanting to leave it again.

"Pierce," he said, lifting his head from Pierce's shoulder so he could look into the clever eyes that he loved so much, feeling a flutter in his heart when he saw that those eyes were set on him already. Edward lifted his hand, then the other one as he reached for Pierce, running his palms down the finely-crafted shape of Pierce's face, feeling the boyishly soft skin. It was like they had never been parted. To discover if it truly could be so, Edward slid his hands down to Pierce's strong neck, to hold him still for a kiss.

* * *

He saw Ned moving, and while there was pain in Ned's movements - they had been so rough with his Ned, Isabella and her villains - there was no hesitation, nothing but purpose as he grasped Pierce from his neck and began to move closer. Pierce knew immediately what Ned was about to do, every inch of his being lighting up with excitement. But Pierce was faster.

He reached with his arms to pull Ned to him and captured Ned's mouth with his own, closing his eyes as Ned's lips immediately parted and let him in. Kissing Ned was as as sweet as it had always been, like it had been ever since the first time he had captured Ned in his arms with tender intentions. Ned himself was the same too, first melting to the kiss like a cat stroked from the chin, only to grow hungry as the kiss went on, returning Pierce's every nip and stroke of tongue with many of his own, pressing harder into Pierce's welcoming lap. Pierce felt Ned's hips push forward, his warm groin nestling close to Pierce's own, coaxing the hot feeling in his loins to full fire. An eager shiver ran down Pierce's spine, made his breath hitch, and he held on to Ned tighter.

It had been so long, but Ned still knew how to make Pierce weak with need. Ned might have had other lovers since Pierce's unwilling departure, and maybe Ned had even loved some or one of them, but he hadn't forgotten Pierce. The discovery made Pierce's heart want to holler with joy, but instead he moved his hands, searching the dip of Pierce's spine with his fingertips, to explore the familiar length of it. His other hand eventually found its way down to the tailbone, then lower, to the full shape of a buttock.

"Be with me," he whispered against the corner of Ned's mouth, barely aware that he was pleading, barely caring. He felt Ned smile, and stopped caring altogether.

* * *

Be with Pierce?

As if there was anything he wanted more.

Instead of a reassurance, he gave Pierce a light peck on the lips before dragging his lips down to Pierce's throat, and from there towards his ear. He breathed in Pierce's scent, where he could smell the sour salt of sweat; Pierce had told Edward of his constant nightmares, of men hunting him down with swords and axes, and how Edward would sometimes be among those men. Edward thought of how deeply he had slept, and how Pierce's arms had barely moved from where they had settled on Edward last night, when they went to bed. Of course, just because there had been no movement didn't mean there had been no terror.

It broke his heart and almost stilled him, but Edward shook the sorrow away. Neither of their sufferings couldn't be undone, but that didn't matter as long as they had each other. He would have to remember that, and that way none of their enemies could ever win.

So he kept mouthing Pierce's neck, which so willingly curved to his touch, and he reached down between their bodies to search Pierce's cock, finding it as it rose against his palm. Edward closed it inside a tender fist, feeling the blood pulse beneath its thin, silken soft skin, how it swelled and firmed every time he pulled his fist along its length. Pierce moaned, his other hand sliding up Edward's back to his neck, and further to his hair, grasping handful of it as he opened up his legs. Edward did the same, and thrust his cock between Pierce's firm thighs.

* * *

Pies Gaveston had grown old before his time, but in his heart he was still young, still Pierce. He wrapped his arm around Ned, squeezing his thighs together so that he could have his lover exactly where he wanted him, and as Ned groaned and grasped Pierce's cock tighter, Pierce pushed Ned over to his back, and moved on top of him.

He had no idea what he was doing and Ned knew even less; they bucked at each other with vigor and fierceness of stallions, their hands dueling for who would conquer more of the other's flesh. Ned gasped with pleasure, and Pierce used that gasp to take Ned's mouth again, urgently like he would never have a chance to kiss Ned again. And indeed, who knew? All they ever had were moments of bliss, sweeter than any pleasure but too short to last. Maybe he should always kiss Ned like this, like it was the last time, pour all his love into one touch.

He didn't mind that thought at all.

Their cocks were sliding together now, and Ned was trying to clasp them both into his hand when Pierce reached down to grab Ned's wrist, pulling the hand away. Ned wriggled a little in resistance, but soon ceased with all unnecessary movements as the friction between them grew stronger, sweatier and slicker. Pierce laced his fingers together with those of the hand he had just grasped, holding on tight as he rubbed down against Ned, as Ned ground against him in return.

Having become speedier with age, Pierce's passion soon reached its peak and erupted, and after a hoarse cry Pierce slumped against Ned, then slid off on the bed. Gazing at the body resting beside him, Pierce dimly realized that Ned must have come even earlier, his cock softening fast between his spread thighs, its tip shining wet.

Pierce reached out, gathering Ned's cock in his palm to knead the spent flesh gently, enjoying the warm weight of it. In the past, there had been only few times he had touched Ned like this, and he had never drunk from him; as daring as he and Ned had been, the rumors told about them were always more deviant than they had ever been. It would all change now. They had wasted years, and they had almost wasted an eternity; if they were such sinners, they would be unstoppable from now on.

The thought made Pierce smile, but he pushed it away for now, instead gathering all of Ned into his arms. Ned, ever the sleepy one, was yawning wide, but he was smiling too, resting his head once more on Pierce's shoulder.

"Be with you," Ned mumbled, and it took a few puzzled blinks for Pierce to realize what Ned was talking about. His chest full off all emotions imaginable, Pierce hugged Ned close, listening as Ned whispered: "Always."

His words all gone, Pierce pressed his lips shut and rested his face into Ned's hair.


End file.
